Ghosts That We Knew
by ToriKat
Summary: Story between the newly awoken Steve Rogers and his long lost love, Peggy Carter. Or, who was supposed to be Peggy Carter. Who is actually Margo Carter, most recent companion of The Doctor. This is just the prologue, and I will continue if people are interested in it. So please, read and review, even if only to say no thanks!
1. Chapter 1

_**1945**_

"Come in, this is Captain Rogers, do you read me?"

I looked up, wide eyed, at the crackling of the radio. My feet carried me over in a rush, pushing in front of the soldier who was answering the call.

"Steve! Is that you, are you alright?"  
"Peggy! Schmidt's dead."

"What about the plane?"

"That's a little bit tougher to explain."

"Uh... Give me your coordinates. We'll find you a safe landing site."

I signaled to the others working around me to start looking, and leaned forward in my seat, listening for Steve's response. The radio crackled again after a short pause.

"... There's not gonna be a safe landing. But I can try and force it down."

My heart stuttered at his words, panic shooting through me.

"I... I'll get Howard on the line; he'll know what to do-"

"There's not enough time. This things movin' too fast and it's heading for New York..."

I trembled, my hand stretched halfway to the phone, frozen. Steve made a small noise, and then spoke again.

"... I've gotta put her in the water."

"_Please_, don't do this, we- we have time, we can work it out."

My voice broke around the growing lump in my throat, and I squeezed my eyes shut against forming tears. This couldn't be happening. Not now, please, no. Not to Steve. Not Steve. Not when we'd just, we'd finally-

"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die."

I shook my head at his words, not speaking... Knowing he was right. The radio was quiet, and I was about to speak again when he beat me to it.

"... Peggy... This is my choice."

I took a shuddering breath that choked off at the end, and looked down at my shaking hands, ignoring the stares I was probably getting. God, why now? Why at all? Steve didn't deserve this. He never did anything to deserve this. He was the best person I'd ever met, and that was saying a lot. And dammit, I loved him. And now he was... He was on a self-appointed kamikaze mission to end a war he had no place in from the start. He was going to save the world as we knew it. Just a kid from Brooklyn. Just a kid.

The radio came to life again, and I jumped a bit, before leaning in to listen. Steve spoke, his voice cracking the tiniest bit, betraying him. Showing his emotions.

"_Peggy_."

I sucked in a deep breath, before slowly letting it out, wiping my eyes.

"I'm here."

"... I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."

I half laughed, the sound strange. Hollow in the now silent room. Sad.

"... Alright... A week, next Saturday. At the Stork Club."

"You got it."

My voice shook, although I tried not to let him hear me crying.

"Eight o'clock on the dot, don't you dare be late. Understood?"

He was quiet for a few seconds before responding.

"You know, I still don't know how to dance."

My eyes flickered to the radar in front of me, tracking the movement of his plane, wishing he was here with me. Pretending I was with him. And maybe, if I closed my eyes, I would be. But the worst part was knowing. Knowing that I could go back, knowing that I could save him, and knowing that... I wouldn't. That I couldn't ever do that. Because this stupid wonderful boy from Brooklyn was ending the war of all wars. And I couldn't take that away.

"... I'll show you how. Just... _Just be there_."

I let my tears fall, the emotions fill my voice. I couldn't hold myself together any longer. Steve answered quickly, his voice shaking, but firm. Putting on a brave face.

"We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your-"

The radio burst into static, and my heart stopped, dropping into my stomach.

"Steve?... Steve?!"

My voice was frantic, my hands moving on their own accord to fiddle with the radio, all the while knowing. Knowing he was gone. I suddenly realized I could no longer see from the tears blurring my vision, and I hiccupped out a sob, slowly slumping in my seat, shaking.

"_Steve_..."

It was quiet, but for the static sounding from the abandoned radio, echoing throughout the control room. Eventually the sound of people returned, all a flurry. Chairs squeaking, voices everywhere. Tones of sadness, of rejoicing, of relief. They avoided me, letting me cry alone, letting me try to pull myself together. But I was unsuccessful.

I needed someone. Someone I trusted, someone who I cared for, who cared for me. Someone to let me cry, and to lie to me and tell me it was okay. I needed what I never let myself have, what I tried to stay away from. I needed Steve. I needed to see him, to hear his voice, to have him. To see that smirk, those blue eyes, to kiss him. Just once more... I needed Howard, although I doubt he'd know what to say. He'd probably try to make a joke and make everything worse, but... But that was Howard. I needed-

Footsteps. Suddenly becoming aware of footsteps coming towards me, I raised my head, and tried to wipe my eyes before a gentle hand caught my wrist. I looked up into a pair of sad green eyes, and then closed my own, looking away. An arm slid around me, urging me up slowly, and I automatically wrapped my arms around the man's long torso, pushing my face into his shoulder. He seemed surprised at first, but then his long arms gently wound around me, and I felt a few soft pats on my back.

"There, There, I know. I know."

He sounded so sad that I imagined he really did know how it felt. To lose someone. And know it had to happen. I pulled away from his arms, sniffling, wiping my eyes again, and he tugged his blazer back into place.

"Come along now, Em. Time to go. We've done good."

I looked up at him again, wincing at the cheeriness in his voice. But his face was still sad, haunted. He outstretched a hand to me, and after a minute's pause I took it, letting him lead me out. Past all the rushing and bustling, past all the voices. Past everything until we arrived in the air craft hanger and he escorted me across to one of the back corners. To that now so familiar blue police box that I'd come to know as a second home.

"Where to, Emmy? Would you like to visit Howard? Or just... another place? Another time?"

His voice was gentle, and I couldn't bear it. I could bear to see and hear him like this, so not himself. Just for me. I couldn't face going back and seeing Steve, not knowing that he would be gone. I wanted to see Howard but at the same time, I just... I just wanted...

"…I want to go _home_, Doctor."

He smiled that childish little smile, and opened the doors, ushering me in, following behind me.

"TARDIS, Sweet TARDIS."

He gave the wall a fond pat, and turned to me, rubbing his hands together... But then his enthusiasm slowly faded as he caught sight of my face, and his head dipped down, the smile gone. I walked to him, and reached up to straighten his bow tie gently.

"_Please_."

He nodded, before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, the first time he's ever done it.

"I'm sorry, Margaret Carter. I'm so sorry."

Then he walked up to the main control board, and soon we were off.


	2. Chapter 2

_**((A/N: Contains teensy maybe spoilers for "The Angels Take Manhattan". Or actually just a foreboding atmosphere for New York. For all you non-Doctor Who fans out there, don't worry. You don't really have to know in depth to read, so read on. Just know time travel. And that's pretty much it. So, please do, read and review. Or just read. That's fine too.)) **_

"Doctor, you've parked in the middle of my living room. Again."

I stepped out into my home, shaking my head, but hiding an uncontrollable smile.

"_Again?"_

He ran out into the room, looking around.

"Huh. Maybe she just likes it here."

I laughed softly, and walked into my kitchen, heading for the fridge to see if I had any edible food left while the Doctor fussed over his TARDIS.

"Fish fingers and custard for you, then?"

"Sounds gorgeous."

I smiled a bit at his word choice, and busied myself with making his meal (mostly as a distraction against the empty ache I was feeling, eating me up from the inside out. It may have been decades since Steve died, but for me it was barely thirty minutes). I could feel the Doctor's eyes on me, could feel him worrying about me, and by the time I served him his food, his brow was furrowed, his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Now, now-"

I reached out to smooth the lines on his forehead with my thumb.

"None of that, my Raggedy Doctor."

Those green eyes flicked up to my brown ones at the familiar nickname, and then down to his plate.

"I am sorry, Emmy. I didn't-"

"It's my fault anyway. I didn't have to… "

To what? To fall absolutely, madly in love with the most perfect boy- man I'd ever met? To fall in love with someone I knew I shouldn't, someone I knew I'd have to leave eventually? It was my fault; I was the stupid one. The man looking up at me sighed, and then looked out the window of my flat, the expression on his face slightly miserable.

"I don't like New York."

I reached out slowly, putting my hand over his.

"I know."

There was a pause in our conversation, during which his eyes darkened and he lost himself, and I worried… But then he was back, smiling, and eating like he was a starved man. I ended up making soup for myself, keeping an eye on that lanky form sitting at my bar.

I had been one of Amy Pond's best friends; I'd grown up with her and her imaginary "Raggedy Doctor"… Except it turns out he wasn't as imaginary as we'd first thought. After Amy and Rory disappeared, after all the stories they'd told me disappeared, I would go to their house, just to look at it. To think of all they'd done, to imagine it, and to think of how much they'd meant to people they didn't even know.

And then one night there was a raggedy man on their doorstep.

I suppose the rest is literally history. When I moved to New York, he madman in the blue box followed me, and I've been with him ever since. We suit each other, and work well together. Sometimes it's hard. Sometimes he gets excited, and calls me Amy, and I have to watch his face do that conflicted thing. But its okay and I tell him so. And then we're fine until the next time it happens. He usually doesn't stay at my flat very long; usually just long enough to say goodbye.

It makes me wonder sometimes… How much I mean to him. He does keep coming back here after all; to one of the places that tortures him the most, just for me.

I finished making my soup, and took a bowlful to the bar, sitting beside him.

"I suppose you'll be off again then."

The Doctor looked up at me, and then nodded.

"I'm afraid so. I've been invited to Queen Elizabeth I's coronation; can't miss it."

I smiled into my soup, shaking my head.

"No, I suppose you can't."

"… Are you sure you'll be okay, Emmy?"

I nodded, though somewhat hesitantly.

"Yeah. I think I just need some time."

He studied me for a few moments; his face emotionless, but then I guess decided that I was telling the truth, because he popped off his stool to his feet.

"Well. Don't want to be late!"

I stood, following his bounding steps to the waiting police box, feeling an odd pinch of panic when my brain fully realized I wasn't going with him.

"Promise me you'll come back."

I blurted out before I even realized it, the words falling from my mouth, and he turned to frown at me.

"Of course I'm coming back.

He hugged me to him tightly, worrying me slightly at how long the embrace was, before he pulled away, and entered the TARDIS. I stepped back, watching as he closed the door…

-and then opened it again.

"I'll bring you back something!"

I laughed, and nodded.

"I'll be looking forward to it!"

He closed the door once again, and was soon gone.

I stood in the empty quiet of my living room for a few minutes before going to quietly put the dirty dishes in the sink. Once reaching my bathroom, I finally shed that wretched uniform, throwing it to the bottom of my hamper. I didn't want to see it again right now. Standing in the shower, I let the hot water burn my skin bright red, staring into nothing, until the burning turned to ice, and then I promptly got out and fell into bed.

_**#############**_

"… Well why don't you just come here for Christmas? I know your writing keeps you 'busy' but you need a change of scenery. Pleeeeeeease?"

The next morning began with a phone call from my brother. He was complaining (again) of his writer's block, and the "hardships of the life of a writer".

"Maybe it's just what you need, Jim. Who knows? Maybe a trip to New York will inspire you."

He rewarded me with a friendly huff at the end of the line.

"I'll think about it, yeah? But I gotta go, Sis. This call is burning a hole in my already ripped pocket. I wish our supposed twin telepathy would kick in already."

I laughed, just as my doorbell rang.

"Alright, well, there's someone at my door, so I'll let you go. Bye Jim. Love you."

"Love you too, Margo."

The line went dead, and I stuffed my phone into my back pocket, half hopping to the door, and opening it.

"Hell-oh..?"

I was met by a very official looking man in a black suit.

"Margaret Carter?"

"Who're you?"

I didn't answer the question, frowning, already shrinking a bit behind my door as if for protection. The man smiled at me, and showed me a badge on his hip before handing me an ID. "Government. Agent Phil Coulson. I need you to come with me."

"Am I in trouble?"

"… We just need to ask you some questions."

I arched my eyebrows, forcing myself not to snort.

"Well then you can ask them of me here. I'll even make tea. But I'm not going anywhere with you without more proof. I'm not an idiot."

'Agent Coulson' laughed- an actual laugh- and nodded, before pulling out his phone, and dialing a number.

"Sir, you were right. She wants to do it here… Yes, right. Yes Sir."

He hung up just as fast, looking up at my wide eyed expression.

"He'll be right up."

_**##############**_

When I'd said 'here', I'd really meant 'not ever, maybe at the door, please leave', but I ended up sitting on my couch, across from Agent Coulson and a man who introduced himself as "Nick Fury", even though Agent Coulson called him "Director Fury", whatever that meant. Mr. Fury's arrival had conjured so many badges and IDs that I finally just gave up and invited them in, and put on the kettle.

"So… Why do you need to talk to me again?"

I fidgeted. They'd explained a bit about S.H.I.E.L.D., the government sector they worked for, and all the things they "took care of" seemed serious. It worried me. The two men shared a look before Mr. Fury spoke.

"I'll just get straight to the point, Miss Carter. We've detected huge traces of unknown energy periodically going in and out of the atmosphere. Now, this is concerning enough, but what is even stranger is that they always, somehow, lead back here. To you. Care to explain?"

I swallowed hard, watching them, before looking into my tea. Well, fuck. I knew exactly what would cause that. He waited for me to speak, and then leaned forward when I didn't, his voice firmer, darker.

"I don't mean to threaten, but this is something we WILL find out about, one way or another. We've done our research on you; we know where your brother is, who your friends are. We also know about your two friends that mysteriously disappeared, right before you coincidently moved out of the country, here to New York. You want us on your side, Miss Carter. Believe me. And I suggest you tell us the truth."

My heart fell into my stomach at his words, and I rubbed my hands over my face, thinking of James, of Amy and Rory, of how fucked up and confusing this whole thing was.

"I… I don't know a lot about it, I swear. But I can try to help give you the information you want with what I know. It's not dangerous, I know that for sure."

"Well WHAT is it?"

I sighed. How is this my life?

"It's a time machine."

The men stared blankly at me.

"A… time machine?"

"Yes, basically."

"So you're a-"

"Time traveler, yes, I thought that'd be a given."

Agent Coulson was staring at me with a strange sort of awed look on his face, and even Mr. Fury was smiling.

"Well, Miss Carter. This changes a lot of things. Would you still be so opposed to coming to our Headquarters? I'm sure we have more things to ask you, and we'd like to record your answers."

I sighed, and stood. I'd already jumped in. If I was already drowning, there was nothing I could do about it now.

"Let's get a move on then."


	3. Chapter 3

**Name: **

I sighed, looking once again at the application in my hands. After being escorted to S.H.I.E.L.D's (surprisingly real) headquarters, I was asked even more questions, and was then poked and prodded by doctors and scientists alike. When I was declared human, and not a threat to society (I mean _honestly_) I was then fully welcomed with suspiciously open arms.

Well. Now I see why everyone was being so nice to me.

"We merely want you to fill it out, Miss Carter. Even if we end up not needing you, we'd still like your information."

"But an _agent?_"

Mr. - Director- Fury sighed, and nodded.

"We could use someone with your… area of expertise. I'll give you an hour; that should be more than enough time."

I was about to protest, but he gave me a slightly scary look that said 'do it, because you want us on your side', and then walked out. I groaned, putting my head in my hands.

I was being forced to work for the government.

Wonderful.

It wasn't even _noon_ yet.

I sighed again, and made a quick look through the application. Why did they even need to _know_ half of this stuff anyway? At least some of it would be easy. The life I led didn't give me many real people in my life, or substance. Just pasts. I guess that's what time traveling does to you.

Checking my phone again, I realized I'd already wasted ten minutes. Great. I then clicked my pen, and began.

_**#######################**_

**Name: ** Margaret Ivy Carter

**Nicknames/Aliases: **Margo, Emmy, Peggy

**Birthdate: **April 5th, 1986

**Birthplace: **London, England, the United Kingdom

**Place of Residence: ** New York City, New York, the United States

**Sex: **Female

**Eye Color: ** Brown

**Hair Color: **Brown

**Mother's Name: **Denise Armor-Carter (deceased)

**Father's Name: **Michael Carter (deceased)

**Sibling(s): ** James Carter (25, living somewhere) (he moves a lot)

**Significant Other: **None

**Current Occupation(s): ** Waitress, student, time traveler (? Is this an occupation?)

**Past Occupation(s): **Policewoman (for a day), Queen Mary's lady in waiting (actually more pleasant than one would think), British liaison for the American Army from 1943- 1945, Agent for the Strategic Scientific Reserve (S.S.R)

**Native Language: ** English

**Other Known Language(s): **German (fluent), French (fluent), Portuguese, Gallifreyan (don't ask, I honestly don't know how. I think it's a side effect of the T.A.R.D.I.S)

**Biggest Accomplishment(s): ** Uh, staying alive?

**Biggest Weakness: **The Doctor. The Weeping Angels.

**Trusted Friends/Accomplices: ** James Carter, The Doctor, Melody Pond

**Past Trusted Friends/Accomplices: ** Amelia Pond, Rory Williams, Howard Stark, Steve Rogers

**Reason For Filling Out This Application: **Well I don't really have a choice here, now do I?

_**##############################**_

I signed the papers when I finished, and hesitantly went to open the door. A guard (a _guard? Really?_) met me, and took my application, promising to return soon with food.

"Just make yourself comfortable, Miss Carter."

I gave him a look, but went back into the room, bored, looking around. It was obviously an interrogation room meant to look a little friendly, but failing miserably. I flopped down on the couch in the corner, propping my feet up on the coffee table. What if they just kept me here? Just never let me out? I'd bet everything I had that the Doctor would come for me. They wouldn't be able to keep him out.

But until then, I was stuck here, bored out of my mind.

Luckily, someone _did_ come soon to deliver me lunch, but it wasn't the guard.

"Time traveler, eh? I haven't been able to figure that out- yet. We should talk; I bet we'd get along great- and not just because we're both pretty. Seriously, you should visit sometime. I did my research on you this morning, Miss Carter. I think you'll like my toys. Oh, and I brought burgers, by the way. I can't let them feed you their shitty food."

I stared at the man, who plopped down on the couch next to me like he'd known me forever, spreading food for two all over the coffee table. Then he turned to me, giving me a winning smile.

"Tony Stark, at your service."

He looked just like Howard.

My heart clenched painfully in my chest, but I managed to smile back.

"Margo Carter."

He nodded, and shoved a fry into his mouth.

"I hope you like everything on your burgers."

I laughed softly, still in a bit of a fog, the memories and reality mixing together in my mind.

"Course I do. It's the best way."

I unwrapped my burger, and took a big bite, just realizing how hungry I as. Tony (_Howard, Howard, Howard-NO… No, it's Tony. Tony.) _laughed loudly (_God, he had Howard's laugh. Howard's laugh.) _and gave me a shit-eating grin.

"My kinda woman."

We talked while we ate. He spoke about things he was working on, and all I could think of was how damn _proud_ Howard would be of his son. I told Tony a few stories of my own; of the T.A.R.D.I.S, the Doctor, even some of my earlier travels.

I immediately felt comfortable with him, and I didn't know if it was just _him_, or the knowledge that this was the closest to Howard I'd ever get again. Tony and I got along regardless, and he had me laughing- actually laughing- for the first time in _months_…

The war hadn't been a place for laughter.

"I'm serious about you coming over, Margo. Really, I'll buy burgers again, or pizza, or whatever. And we can play."

He shot me a suggestive wink, and I rolled my eyes good naturedly.

"I might like the first part of that offer. Thanks."

And that is how I got Tony Stark's personal cell number, along with a 'sexy' photo of him on my phone.

"NO! Use that one, that one's good. Don't you dare laugh, that pose has gotten me through life. That'd sell for at LEAST a million-"

He was cut off by the door opening, and we looked up to see Director Fury, who sighed tiredly.

"Who let you in here, Stark."

"I let myself in, your Highness."

I thought it best not to laugh at Tony's cheekiness, though it was hard. Director Fury just shook his head as if he put up with this sort of thing every day. Maybe he did.

"Well, get out. I have to speak with Miss Carter."

"'Bout what? What's that?"

I followed Tony's pointed gaze to a large manila folder in the Director's hands.

"Lemme see it. You _know_ I'll just find out on my own anyway. This is a lot easier than-"

"_Stark."_

Tony shut up, throwing up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay. I'm going. I'll be in touch, Time Girl!"

He walked out, giving Director Fury a mocking salute at the door, and then sauntering down the hall like he owned the place. He probably did. Or at least half of it.

The Director gestured for me to sit, so I did, watching as he gently tossed the folder onto the table in front of me.

"It looks like we didn't need that application after all."

I frowned, confused, and cautiously reached for the folder, pausing at the familiar looking emblem on the front. Upon opening it, I was greeted by all of my S.S.R. information- pictures, stats, debriefing, missions. All of it. I pulled up my basic information sheet again, staring at the black and white photo of myself. The 'S.S.R.' marking on all the documents had been stamped out, and 'S.H.I.E.L.D' written over it.

Turns out I was already a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. I just didn't know it.

I slowly closed the folder, swallowing hard. I'd been holding some of these papers not more than 3 days ago… And those 3 days were, in reality, 70 years past. I made to give it back, but the labeling on the tab made me stop.

**Carter, Peggy: MIA**

Sniffing, I looked up.

"Missing in action?"

Director Fury just smiled, and took the folder out of my hands.

"Welcome back, Agent Carter."


End file.
